Monday, October 27, 2014

Bicycle Magic

Material: Metal (likely aluminum), held in place by grout,
alongside ceramic, glass, and recycled materials

Creator: Isaiah Zagar

Collection: Philadelphia’s Magic Gardens

To borrow the words of author James
E. Starrs, “Melancholy is incompatible with bicycling.” I couldn't agree more. For nearly a decade, I
have navigated the mean streets of Philadelphia by bicycle. Granted, I've had a
few collisions with slick trolley tracks, flat tires, and one stolen wheel, but
I wouldn't want to get around any other way. Not only is it environmentally
friendly and cost-effective, cycling awakens my mind, gets my blood pumping,
and the keeps my spirits high. Bicycling is my therapy.

Visiting
Philadelphia’s Magic Gardens (PMG) this week, I had the pleasure of sitting
down with museum staff and the artist, Isaiah Zagar. For Zagar, the creation of
the mosaicked wonderland was 12 year act of therapeutic artistry. One object included throughout Zagar’s work that particularly resonates with me is the bicycle wheel.

The wheels in Zagar’s work at PMG are
composed of a round aluminum rim, a series of wire tension spokes, a metal hub
at the center. Some perch like gargoyles along the tops of the sculpture
garden, while others are integrated into the walls, like windows. The wheel’s
strong circular form stands in contrast to the geometric shapes that encompass
most of the other mosaic tiles, and the natural shapes of the bottles and
ceramic folk art. Wheels are also represented in two dimensional forms,
painted onto tiles, and included in series of Zagar’s drawings currently on
display. In addition to providing visual
interest, wheels often symbolize a cycle or repetition, as well as health
and strength. Perhaps they represent Zagar’s own healing, or the revitalization
of the neighborhood. Like most materials in the space, each bicycle wheel is
grouted into place. While individual objects, they are pieces of a larger, magnificent
structure.

Curiosity Wheel

As a frequent PMG visitor, I have
admired the bicycle wheels, but I never knew where they came from, or why they
were used. Since my last visit, PMG has installed a “Cabinet of Curiosities”
in its center gallery, which through a variety of objects, images and reading
materials invites visitors to learn more about PMG, Zagar, and the mosaic
process. A small red wheel immediately caught my eye. As the attached text
label notes, Isaiah incorporates bicycle wheels into his work because they
create a strong, circular form, without obstructing light. What’s more, these
wheels were donated to Zagar by Via Bicycle, a shop just down the street. The label is presented in a narrative museum
voice. Rather than simply stating facts, the label poses a question, “What
other recycled materials do you see in the space?” which encourages visitors to
be actively explore, rather than just accumulate facts.

It’s true, I thought, as I wandered throughout the sculpture
garden on this particularly dreary afternoon, the wheels above me formed little
windows into the sky, and the lower ones were portals from which to peer into
the cavernous space. How appropriate, I thought, that the wheels were acquired
through a neighboring business; the sculpture garden was an effort to beautify
and revitalize the neighborhood, and this is great example of how the community
has contributed to this vision.

In addition to the owners
of Via, who may see themselves reflected in Zagar’s work, the wheels might also
be important to cyclists, advocates of recycling and creative reuse, those
interested in community revitalization, and artists and patrons of visionary
art spaces. As a familiar object that has been transformed into art, I would assume
that most of PMG’s general audiences appreciate the wheels.

A glimpse of The Heidelberg Project

To better understand Zagar’s use of wheels, one could explore
visionary art environments, folk art, mosaics and murals. One visionary art
environment that I was fortunate to visit a few years ago was The Heidelberg Project in Detroit, Michigan. One could also trace the
history of wheels back to the Bronze Age ,
or explore wheel symbology found in religions such as Buddhism.

While it is unlikely that the bicycle wheels stir up much
controversy, individuals who are offended by Zagar’s visual and textual
depictions of nudity may likely be disinterested in his body of work. It’s
possible that other individuals might simply find PMG to be too visually
overwhelming. Going further, it is plausible that someone could pass by the
museum and mistake it as a junk yard, or the home of a hoarder. From this point of view, the reaction might
be, ‘What an eyesore. This wacko can’t even let go of old bicycle wheels and
broken ceramics!’

To further engage visitors, I would partner with Philly Bike Tours create a bike tour that
explores Zagar’s murals throughout the city.
Along the way, the tour would also visit The Resource Exchange, a local
organization that promotes recycling and creative reuse, and Neighborhood BikeWorks, an organization that teaches and promotes bicycle building, repair and
safety.

This was a particularly memorable visit to PMG. At the helm of my bicycle riding away in the
rain, I was reminded of how bicycle wheels, whether for art or transport, make
me happy.